Don't Blink
by Ink-About-It
Summary: "Whataya know about butterflies?" A story of young love set in a small town. Expect the worst. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Me? No.

* * *

She doesn't know she's beautiful, and that makes her even more so.

* * *

The sky's bluer here somehow. Always. No matter that you're only about half an hour away, there's just something about this place. _Lake MJ_, you'd named it the day y'all discovered this tiny piece of paradise.

As you rest your head on your best friend's lap with her fingers lazily running through your fanned out hair, you have a breath-taking view. The blue of the sky is brilliant. The clouds remind you of the carnival and cotton candy. You see one shaped kinda like a tortoise and the clouds move so slow like one too. Kinda like your life.

She looks off into the distance as her hand moves through your knotted curls. You wonder what she's thinking about. You imagine she's day-dreaming, and then you wonder what Maura day-dreams about.

There's so many things in the world worth wishing for, but only a few truly worth having.

You keep staring up at her even though your eyes droop every now and then because you're so at peace… and a little tired, but you do your best to keep them open. You want to remember this.

She's really something special.

The silence covers you both like a warm blanket, the breeze ghosting over your skin, brushing against the little hairs on your arms and making her hair sway like she's floating. The Sun just above her head gives her this halo effect and you're convinced there's a wanted poster for her up in heaven.

She'd probably laugh if you said any of these things out loud, and you almost say them anyway. You even clear your throat only to find hazel eyes smiling down at you as if she's heard everything already.

You've never seen anything more enchanting, every time you see her. You feel a little dizzy although you're just lying there, but you can't help it when she quirks an eyebrow in response to your stupid grin.

"Whataya know about butterflies?" you ask her.

Anyone else would have called you random and laughed it off, but not her. She isn't like that. She isn't like anyone you've ever known and you thank goodness for that. The longer you stare into her eyes, the weirder you feel. You heard someone say an expression once, and now you kinda understand what they meant.

Maura Martin gives you the butterflies.

She pretends to ponder but you know she's just trying to sift out the boring bits in her head for you, even though you've told her not to.

"I've read there were about 20 000 different species of butterflies all over the world. Every colour imaginable, although they're sometimes mistaken with moths which have sixteen times more species."

She sounds a bit like those professor-type folks on TV when she talks sometimes. It used to make you laugh, but mixed in with her accent it's refreshing and comforting hearing her talk. You wonder if there's a butterfly the color of her eyes…

"Butterflies live a double-life, you could say. They start out as caterpillars and then turn from these sluggish creatures into... winged masterpieces. That's why they're often symbols of transformation."

You love her way with words. Anyone else might reckon she's just real passionate about butterflies, but this is how she talks about everything.

"They can smell with their feet!" she informs with a lot more enthusiasm and you laugh along with her.

"Fascinating."

"Yes, I thought you'd find that interesting. Oh, the smallest is the _Pygmy Blue_, growing to about a half-inch and the largest can grow 11 and 1/8 inches."

"Jeez, I'd run a mile."

"Away from a butterfly?"

"Away from an eleven-inch anything. I'd shoot it if I had a gun."

"That is cruel," she scolds. "They don't survive past a few weeks or months anyway…"

Her face contorts to one of sadness and longing. "I tried to keep one as a pet once. It flew into my bedroom one day and I thought I could prolong its life if I read up on them and took care of it. It lasted three weeks and four days."

An involuntary lift at the corner of your lips accompanies your sympathetic gaze. "That's… kinda sad."

She half-frowns back. "It is, isn't it? Anyhow, I read somewhere that the ancient Greeks called butterflies 'Psyche' which also means 'soul' because many cultures actually feel that when we die, our souls go to heaven as butterflies."

She is something truly special.

"I've never heard of _that_ one, but it's a pretty neat thought... Do you think they know? How pretty they are?"

She delicately furrows her brows and you know you caught her unawares. "Butterflies?"

"Yeah."

"I… don't believe insects understand the concept of aesthetic beauty the way _humans_ perceive and understand it. Animals in general aren't usually so… superficial."

On reflex she starts playing with her hair, using it to cover some parts of her face and your own smile evaporates. You wish she remembered she didn't have to do that around you.

You sit up and turn so you're able to face each other side-by-side. She starts fiddling with your hair again, removing tiny blades of grass from it and you let her because you let her get away with just about anything, the least of which is playing with your hair. You don't even put up a fight now.

"I can't imagine what I'd do with myself if I finally got to be who I've always wanted to be and only had three weeks to enjoy it... Do you think they know they won't live too long? Like, do they, I dunno, expect it?"

You feel pretty stupid asking these questions, yet you can't help but wonder out loud.

"Maybe they do, and maybe they don't," she says, "They still do what butterflies do. After all, we're all meant to die…"

You love her brain. You love that she knows more stuff than the teachers at your old school combined. But you also love her mind. How she can make some things sound so simple.

And she's simply beautiful.

"What would _you_ do?"

"If I had three weeks to live a second life?"

You can tell she was already thinking about it.

"Yeah. Knowing all you know right now and being able to do whatever you wanted. _Wherever_."

Maura looks out ahead again, absent-mindedly intertwining her fingers with yours in her lap. You look at her wondering what caused the crease in her forehead. Maybe she's thinking about visiting the world's biggest library, or a museum. Or she might surprise you and want to go to a baseball game or something.

But then she looks at you and locks onto your eyes and you wonder if she was only pretending to think about it again, if her mind was already made up before you even asked.

"This. Here," she shrugs, hoping her answer is answer enough.

Her smile is shy and the butterflies in your stomach growl. "Yeah. Me too..." You pat your stomach. "But with food."

She laughs out loud for the sixth time today and you're honored each time. You count it as another blessing.

You stand and help her up, and she smoothly maneuvers into a hug to whisper in your ear, "I feel much better now."

You breathe her in, absorb her warmth and you feel better too. Out the corner of your eye, you watch a butterfly flutter by and you reckon you died a little bit and just went to heaven.

* * *

The radio's playing your favorite song. Maura teases that your favorite song's whatever song's playing, and of course she's right.

As you close the gap between _Lake MJ_ and home, you roll your window down and Maura leans across the center. She hands a few over to you before you both read the oncoming board-sign out loud:

"Welcome to Dreamcatcher County! Home of the world's largest buffalo wings. Population 517."

You both throw rocks at it and the letter 'n' from 'wings' falls down again, causing you both to break out in a fit of laughter. Hey, you gotta get your kicks in somewhere.

You both hate this Town. Whoever founded it must have been a fugitive who'd taken a wrong turn and gotten stuck here or something, because it's pretty much a textbook off-the-radar bum town where dreams go to die. Huh, that explains the name.

We don't even really have the world's largest anything. It's a bald-face lie.

There's only one of everything. One bar, one diner, one gift shop, one school, one doctor's office, one grocery store, one clothing store and the worst part is that there only seems to be one season year-round.

"Can't wait to finally drive away from this place for good."

"I'd sure miss you somethin' awful."

Your heart twitches a little. "You know I'd come back for you."

"Not if I follow you first," she jokes and the thought makes you happy. "I'd still miss you."

"Yeah, me too, but I don't think it's happenin' any time soon though."

You yawn long and loud, and her concern is like a knee-jerk reaction.

"Did you get any sleep at all, Jane?"

"Course I did."

"What time did you get home last night?"

"Uh… Six?" You yawn again and your voice breaks as you say, "This mornin'?"

She sighs softly and you already know what she's gonna say. "You need to stop workin' so hard."

"Well, I need the money."

"You need the sleep even more."

You don't mean to laugh, but it comes out anyway. "I can't sleep my way outta this Town, Maur. Dreamcatcher's a dead-end and I want out… 'Sides, I can't exactly get any shut-eye when I'm home."

That shuts her up and you feel like scum for making her feel bad about worrying about you. It's just that you've been working non-stop since you were sixteen and you don't know any different. It's been the only sure-fire way to gain even just a little independence from your Pop, but now _he's_ too dependent on _you_ and you don't know which is worse.

All you know is that you want out.

You glance over at her and she's quietly tugging on her sweater.

"What do you want this Christmas?" you ask after a little while.

"I don't know," she shrugs, "Some company would be nice."

She never flat-out asks for anything, but the suppressed smile you find when you have another glance at her says she's hoping you take the bait. She's not even Christian!

"I could try swing by if I ain't workin'. Maybe swap shifts with Thompson. He owes me one anyway."

"Then try to make it for dinner. I'll cook, of course. And what do _you_ want for Christmas?"

You snort at the first thought to pop into your head. "Snow would be nice, don'tcha think?"

She hums and smiles that dreamy smile that makes you feel light-headed. "That would make my year."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes. I've always dreamed of it."

Of course she has. She hates the heat more than anyone, especially with all those layers. You imagine her playing in the snow and you wish you could steal a white Christmas just for her.

"I still got all those jolly sweaters you made me. Would be great to wear 'em out in the snow this time."

"Maybe you'll move to a Town where it does snow... I only hope they still fit you," she jokes.

"Hey, c'mon." You aren't all that upset really. She can laugh all she wants, even at your expense.

You slow down as y'all draw near the _Smiths' Diner_. You're about ready to chew on your own fingers as you park your truck out front. Maura thinks you're exaggerating, but those sandwiches she made were gone before you even made the trip out this morning.

You tell her to pick out anything off the menu, your treat, after the waitress jots down your order. She always scans the menu like it's the morning paper, but it hasn't changed for years and she always ends up just getting whatever you get.

You eat in a comfortable silence, stealing each other's sweet potato fries every now and then. She's just about the easiest part of your day whenever you get the time. You wish you could put this feeling in your pocket and enjoy it any old time.

About halfway through your meal, the bell rings by the entrance and as soon as you look up, you know there's gonna be trouble.

"_Hey, guys. Look whose over there."_

"_Maura's lookin' kinda hot, eh?"_

_Snort. "More like burnt."_

_Laughter. "That's what happens when you don't wear sunscreen."_

"_Come on, guys. Everyone knows she's a vampire. They burn out in the Sun." Snickers._

No one else in the diner even bats an eyelid, and these people just got back from church for Chrissakes. Even at school these guys were always allowed to run their mouths like this and the teacher did nothing. But you'll be damned if you're gonna let these losers talk about your best-friend like that. Not if you can help it.

"Hey!" You get up and walk straight to Dennis and his posse. "You and me. Outside. Now!"

You don't care that you're making a scene. He thinks he can take you, and you let him think whatever he wants because you know better.

You punch him so hard, later you find out he swallowed his own tooth.

* * *

"Think your Mom's home?"

"It's Sunday."

"Right."

Hangover day. Hope's probably passed out somewhere again.

You cut the engine and wordlessly follow her inside her house where she gets you an ice-pack for your knuckles. At least that's all you hurt this time. You make a note to use that as an arguing point for whenever Maura inevitably starts lecturing you about using violence… but it never comes.

She can't meet your eyes.

She's trying not to cry.

"Hey. They're a bunch of assholes, y'know. Unimaginative ones to boot."

She sniffs and quickly swipes at her face as she turns away from you. "I know," she says, "but even a broken clock is right at times."

You follow her into her bedroom not entirely believing what you're hearing.

"What are you talking about? There's a reason they all got no girlfriends. They don't know shit."

You're angry again. Sometimes you hate that she's so soft. She shouldn't listen to them. They don't know jack-shit.

Sure she's never been asked out by a boy, and you used to think it bothered her, but she says it doesn't and so you believe her. At your age, girls and boys are always going steady with each other all the time, except you two. You wouldn't have it any other way, but that's just you.

"Then what's my reason? Why am I alone? Jane, come on. Just look at me."

She turns around as a stream of fresh tears runs down her face. It breaks your heart. She thinks she's alone, but you're standing right in front of her! You school your temper enough to swipe a Kleenex from her dresser and dab it under each of her eyes.

"Yeah? I'm looking."

The previous anger in your voice is replaced by a tenderness that only comes naturally when you're with her.

"I can't expect you to understa-"

"Understand what, Maura? I'm lookin' right at you right now, and you wanna know what I see?"

You don't blink because she has to know you mean it.

"Honestly?"

Her voice is small like she's a kid again.

She doesn't know she's beautiful, and that makes her even more so. But it's about time she knew.

You curl your index under her chin and you don't let her look away as you nod. "Honestly."

She looks back at you as if she's personally handing over her own heart for you to keep or crush. She trusts you implicitly and you can't mess this up. "Okay," she says, "Tell me what you see."

Your heart beats out the word _beautiful_ in Morse code against your chest. Your brain screams _beautiful_... Just abso-fucking-lutely beautiful. Your mouth says:

"I…"

You choke. But this isn't the time to be falling over your words and you're screwing it up.

"Maura, you…"

You fumble again and you watch her watch you, expectant and afraid. You watch her slowly lose hope and then resign herself from hoping. She moves to remove your hand from her face.

"It's okay. You don't have to-"

You can't think quickly enough so you just move your lips and hope the right words come out.

"…"

Your lips move, but no words come out… because you're moving them against hers.

You kiss her.

* * *

**A/N**: END Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Finally. Fi-na-lly!

* * *

… J …

* * *

_**11 Summers ago, Dreamcatcher County**_

_Bzzz… zzzzZZZZZZzz… ZZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZ… BzzzZZZ- SWAT!_

_You flick the dead fly off your arm and wipe your dirty hand off on your dusty shorts. The scowl on your little face is part annoyance at the amount of bugs hovering around you, part squinting in the light of the scorching Sun, but mostly anger at the fact that no one will play with you._

_You're too young to know what an ego is, but you're pretty sure something like that is keeping those boys from inviting you to go play with them. Last time they let you, you kept winning because you're so fast and now they keep making up silly excuses not to play with you._

_You huff and plop down against a tree on the side of the dirt road._

_They're all laughing and having fun and you wish you could join in. Tag's your favourite game, and besides, Pop said to get lost till dinner. What else are you supposed to do? Kids play._

"_Hello?"_

_You hear a small voice from just behind and you ignore it, not in the mood to play dolls with those girls again. It's so boring. There aren't any parks and you outgrew your bicycle already, and most of your shoes too._

_You cross your arms and wiggle your toes sticking out of your flip-flops._

_The voice behind you calls out again but this time you turn to see who it is. It's a girl, which you already figured it might be, but you've never seen her before, and you still can't see most of her._

_She's hiding behind the tree. You're looking straight at her, but she doesn't say anything else._

"_You playin' hide and seek?"_

_The girl shakes her head and you see she's got pigtails like you, but her hair's much lighter._

"_No…" she says. "I'm Maura."_

_You eye her suspiciously, wondering what she's doing behind that tree. She starts to look sad when you don't talk back and you feel bad. You stand up and dust your butt off._

"_I'm Jane. But I don't wanna play hide and seek with you."_

_You're about to tell her you'd rather play tag, but she talks first._

"_Will you play with me if I put a bag over my head?"_

_She has a hand out on the side of the tree, her fingers fiddling with the bark, and she can't look you in the eye. She's acting a little strange, but what she just said is even stranger._

"_Why would you put a bag over your head?"_

"_Because of my face."_

"_You afraid to get sunburnt or somethin'?"_

_Maybe she's one of those girls that don't like to get in the Sun or get dirty. Too bad._

"_No, I put on sunscreen already."_

"_Okay… Then what's your face gotta do with it? Look, you wanna play or not?"_

_You're so bored and you just wanna play already._

"_I do! I do!" she says quickly._

"_Then come out already. I ain't got all day, kid."_

_She starts to move out from behind the tree, but then she stops._

"_It's just- Some of the other boys and girls are afraid of me."_

_You roll your eyes._

"_Do I look like a scaredy-cat to you?"_

"_No? I- I don't know."_

_She looks down and wrings her hands. You figure she must be really shy or something so you give her a minute._

_She finally walks out from behind the tree._

_You don't mean to stare, but you can't help it. She's got burn scars on one side of her face and neck. Your first thought is to ask if it hurts, but you don't know if you're supposed to say anything about it at all. Maybe that's why she's so shy. She looks down sadly again._

"_I- I- I had an accident in the kitchen... When I was little."_

_Once you've taken it all in, it doesn't seem like such a big deal. She isn't scary at all. She looks sad and you feel bad that she's sad. It's not like she can just peel the scars off, it's not a mask._

"_You know how to play tag?"_

_She shakes her head and your eyes grow big._

"_No way! Really?!"_

_She smiles at the way you're exaggerating and your stomach flips the way it does when Pop drives fast down a hill. She has a really nice smile after all._

"_All you need to know is… you better start runnin' 'cause I'm it!"_

_She runs off laughing._

* * *

"_You sure tomato's a fruit? That don't sound right to me."_

"_Positive."_

"_How d'you know that?"_

"_I like to visit the library."_

"_Oh." You can't say you know another seven year-old who can read a book on their own_._ "Who do you visit there?"_

"_Nobody lives there, silly," she laughs, "I read the books."_

"_I'm kidding."_

"_Oh... That was funny."_

_You'd been playing for a while and even though you kept winning, she never got angry and stopped playing with you. She just laughs out of breath and says you're real fast. She even laughs when you're actually trying to be funny._

_Maura's alright in your book._

_You're resting in the shade now, peeling some oranges she brought along. You have to use your teeth to do it, but after that stinging taste, they're so sweet it's worth the extra hassle. That's when y'all started talking about fruit for some reason._

"_Aren't you hot?" you ask her._

"_Aren't you?" she says back, not really answering your question._

"_Yeah, it's hot as cakes out here. But you're wearing all of _that_."_

_She looks really uncomfortable and you guess it's because she's overdressed._

"_I'm fine."_

_She makes herself busy with collecting all the orange peels into a neat pile, but she looks sad again. Did you say something wrong?_

"_You sure? I just think you'd feel better without that sweater."_

"_But I like my sweater."_

"_It's a nice sweater… I guess."_

_She smiles back up at you and you decide she's got the prettiest eyes you've ever seen._

"_Thank you, Jane... I am a little sweaty though."_

"_Sweating in your sweater? Go figure."_

_She plays with the zipper, but she looks like she's still thinking about it. Maybe she has more burns on her body than you thought. You don't want her to feel so shy. There's really no point because you don't care what she looks like. She's fun to play with._

"_You can take it off, I won't stare this time. Promise."_

"_Honest?"_

"_Honest."_

_She thinks for another second and then quickly takes it off._

_You make sure you look only at her face and you try not to blink._

"_Feel better?"_

_She shrugs and you both sit quietly for a while._

"_You know, some of the boys call me frog-face."_

_She looks at you and plays with her pigtail._

"_It bothered me at first, but when I told Ma, uh, before she died, she said it's the only face I got. So I just learn to like it… I ain't no frog-face though."_

_She laughs a little and you also end up laughing too._

"_I feel better now," she says afterwards._

_From then on, you were inseparable._

"_So, what about bananas? Fruit or vegetable?"_

* * *

… M …

* * *

She kissed you.

Your best-friend, your only friend, in the entire world kissed you.

You touch your lips with the tips of your fingers and you can almost still feel the pressure of her mouth against yours. Even days later, your breath catches at the memory. Your heart races and your skin flushes, and you feel another cold tear roll down the side of your face into your ear.

As you get up from bed and reach for another Kleenex you wish someone had warned you about this. You were just a girl when you first met, searching for a friend, and you found _this_. You found all of this. Nobody told you that dreams can come true, but it did.

Your best-friend kissed you and your mind is screaming, "Finally!"

She kissed you and it was a white Christmas feeling. You've wanted it to happen for so long, but you never expected it would but it did and it was amazing and why are you crying again?

Oh.

She kissed you.

Your best-friend, your _**only**_ friend, in the entire world kissed you.

And ran away.

The kiss itself had been perfect. Her lips are a delicate balance between smooth and rough, and that's just so like her. The actual contact hadn't lasted more than a few seconds, but you must have stood there for at least a minute afterwards, mind utterly blown.

By the time you realized she's been staring at you all along, your eyelids fluttered about a dozen times before you opened them again for the first time.

And for a moment she just looked at you like you are beautiful. She hadn't said the word, or any words at all, but you felt it. She wouldn't have kissed you if she didn't, would she?

You wanted to ask her what she meant, why she kissed you. You needed to hear her voice say it, but you said nothing. The silence tugged at your insecurities and you could barely remember to blink let alone think and speak and…

"You're fucking beautiful, Maur."

You gasped, disbelieving.

"And I –"

And your mother chose that very moment to announce her presence.

"Maura! Get your lazy ass out here."

Then Jane jumped out of your window and you haven't heard from her since.

It's been three long days since she kissed you and the Christmas dinner you prepared is waiting in the microwave oven, along with her favorite dessert in the fridge which took just about all day to make.

You knew she had work today, so after a while you blew out the last candle before heading for bed. She had promised to spend the evening together, but you aren't angry at her. It's just that dinner's long since gone cold and there are only so many carols you can sing to pass the time.

You thank your lucky stars your mother at least decided to leave you alone with the house tonight, but it doesn't feel as emancipating without Jane here.

You aren't disappointed in her, you're just worried. She never breaks a promise. Christmas isn't even your favorite holiday, but you know how much she used to love it as a child, and anything that Jane loves is part of what makes you love Jane.

You love her.

Of course you do, she makes it so darn easy. It isn't even a realization as much as it is an affirmation and natural product of so many years of companionship.

You wish she were here so you could just tell her at least that much, and at most, you'd finally get to kiss her back.

* * *

… J …

* * *

It's been a long couple days. You're just about to head off to Maura's when he catches you off-guard, the bastard. You're dog-tired as it is, taking back-to-back-to-back shifts so you could at least get Maura a gift to say sorry for practically assaulting her then running off.

He spent all day getting drunk out of his mind and then he goes and sucker punches you for no good reason. Not that he ever needs one.

Merry fucking Christmas to you.

* * *

**A/N**: END Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

You're in love with a girl who's in love with the world though you can't always follow. And you know that someday she is bound to go away. You have to learn how to let her go.

* * *

You know as soon as she climbs in through your window.

You know it when she can't meet your eyes at first, and how she doesn't smirk hello as soon as she does.

You see it in her eyes. You see everything.

She's made up her mind. She's going to do it. Tonight.

Cold dinners and blown out candles dive to the back of your mind.

For a moment you think you're going to cry some more, but no tears come. Your heart plummets and crashes and burns, but your eyes stay dry. You know what's about to happen, but the last embers of hope still linger, and even though you know, you just can't make yourself _believe_ it.

You know as you get out of bed and walk straight into her embrace, when she wraps you in those long, skinny arms she uses to help you get the things you can't reach, or to cover herself while she takes the blows her father deals.

You know from the way she whimpers when you hug her back that she almost didn't make it this far.

That's when the tears start to flow.

Because you feel selfish for wanting her to change her mind.

You know when instead of her shushing you and telling you everything will be alright, that nothing will ever be alright again. You know when she cries along with you, for the very first time since you met her, that you already miss her.

And then she confirms your biggest fear.

She tells you she's running away from home, away from this Town… and she's not looking back. But that she wanted to see you one last time.

You cry a little harder. Hold tighter, no longer caring that you might be hurting her. She doesn't seem to care either, saying you're the one holding her together.

She wanted to see you. _You_. Of all people. You're both pretty much the only friend each other has, but it still boggles your mind that this magnificent human being can look at you, look at your face, and still call you beautiful like it's the only truth in the world.

She kisses you on the top of your head and you know that she knows. She knows how much you'll miss her. How much you'll need her. And possibly, how you love her.

You pull back to look into her eyes and you see everything.

Yes, she knows that too.

She tucks away the hair you keep down to cover your face, and even with tears in her eyes, she doesn't blink.

She takes you in, scrutinizing and memorizing you. You know no one else who would dare even glance, but not her and you love her for it.

You meet her gaze and you know it might be the last time.

So you don't blink either.

You want to remember everything so you have something to hold onto on those nights when she would have been there to make sure you were okay, even though she knows you're only ever okay with her.

You want to remember the way her hair falls all over and around her face when she wakes up realizing she must have dozed off next to you. Or how it whips about in the wind when she drives you to nowhere just listening to music, or to swim by that small lake only y'all know. Or how it sticks to her face when she's sweaty from a long day at the job she dropped out of school for. Or how it gets wet when she's been waiting for you to fall asleep before walking home in the rain, which she loves. Or how tangled it is when she whines about your lack of gentleness, even though you know she loves it when you run your fingers through her hair sometimes.

She whispers your name. Your heart flutters at the sound and you hope you never forget it.

You want to remember the way her voice booms when she's laughing at something silly but the joke flies over your head. Or how it drops to a low rumble when she doesn't want to talk about it, whatever _it_ is. Or how it gets high pitched when she tries to play down the fact that she did something nice for you. But mostly, how firm and unwavering her voice sounds when she tells you that you're the most perfect soul she's ever met. And that you're the best friend she's ever had.

And that the Red Sox are the best baseball team in the world.

You laugh out of nowhere and the tears fall freely, but you don't blink. You don't dare.

Because she's smiling down at you instead of calling you crazy. And you want to remember that smile she gives only to you. When you're happy. When you're sad. When you're confused or bored. When you're angry, and then you see it, and then you're not angry any more.

You love her for that too.

So you don't blink. No matter what.

Because she's looking into your soul now. Her eyes are dark and lovely, full of emotions you can't even fathom and it feels as though she's reflecting your own thoughts and feelings too. That's just how she is. She just knows.

She's the only one who cares enough to know.

And you know that you're that person for her too.

You reach up and cradle her cheek and she leans into the contact like she's just come home.

But you know she's leaving instead.

She covers your hand with her calloused fingers, and that becomes your homecoming.

For a few moments you both just stand there in the middle of your small bedroom, wishing the world away.

Then she sighs and asks you to close your eyes, but you shake your head because you can't miss anything. She smiles when you tell her as much, but she insists.

You can't say no to her, even though she's the only person who ever gives you the choice. So you do as she asks.

You close your eyes and you still see her, but you _feel_ her more. You feel her wipe your tears away and press her lips to your forehead like she does when your mother blames you for what happened to you, or when the other kids won't stop calling you a freak.

You feel her breath on your face as she dips her head to kiss you on the cheek like she does when you cook her favorite meal. Or after you tend to her wounds when she gets into a fight with those stupid kids or her stupid Dad.

You feel your chest tighten and your heart swell, and you know that your love for her just grew. Even though you were so sure you couldn't love her more.

You bury your face into her chest and breathe in the scent of her musk. Today she smells of sweat, grass and… lavender. You smile because she only wears that perfume for you. You turn your face into her neck to breathe more of her in, but your lips end up brushing her skin. You feel her pulse quicken under your touch, and then you know.

You know why she asked you to close your eyes, but the realization couldn't have come fast enough because now she's kissing your lips.

You clamp your eyes shut and grab fistfuls of the back of her shirt because you're afraid if you open them she might stop, and if you let her go, she might disappear again. No, instead you kiss her back with the force of a thousand hearts.

She stays so gentle but slips her tongue between your lips to taste your love. You love her so much that your heart is beating throughout your body.

You even feel the pulse throb between your legs now and you have to break away to catch your breath.

You don't open your eyes, just in case, but you feel her breath fan your face and know she feels it too.

_Maur_.

You're not sure if she's calling your name or asking for permission, or both, but you're sure you don't care because whatever she wants, you want it too. If there is any one you would trust enough to have you in any way at all, it's her. And in every way.

Finally you open your eyes and nod your head about a dozen times before you kiss her again.

You're confused when she pulls away to ask you a question with the tilt of her head towards the door, but you just beg her not to leave yet. You tell her that you can be quiet and that no one's home anyhow, and she smiles because even if that weren't the case, she's not leaving you like this.

She kisses you while undoing her belt.

You kiss back, unzipping your jeans.

She pulls away to tug her shirt over her head and you do the same with yours, flinging it away. When you almost knock your lamp over, she laughs against your lips and lets you guide her backwards to your bed.

She finds it with the back of her knees and sits on the edge, staring up at you. She's the only one who's ever seen all your scars, but you smile because you know you don't disgust her. And because she shows hers to only you.

She removes her bra and pulls you close by your hips to settle between her legs, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach, and you're sure she can smell your _want_. You dig your fingers in her hair and gasp at the sensation of her tongue flicking out against your skin. She runs her hands up and down your sides and a shiver makes your muscles quake.

You look down and marvel at the vision of her mapping a wet trail of worship on your imperfect surface. It makes you think of one of her favorite songs where they sing, '_You make me feel like I've been locked out of heaven for too long_.' No words could be truer in this moment.

You let go of her and when she finally looks up at you again, you're completely topless. You fight the urge to cover yourself and she can tell you're nervous, but she doesn't push. She doesn't blink.

She tenderly guides you into her lap and kisses you with the passion of a hundred waterfalls, and you can't help but drown in her. You lose all inhibition and press your body so close to hers you could swear she's already inside you. Her rough hands are everywhere and they burn your skin in the way only she can. A lovely sensation that hurts like heaven.

You don't know or care how you ended up on your back, or when the last barriers of clothing were removed, but you feel so good, and she feels so right against you. She whispers the sweetest words and she makes you feel beautiful. She makes you feel wanted and cared for.

You feel loved. It drives you to tears.

When she's stroking you and building you up to the point of breaking, you try to burn this image of her into your brain. You try not to blink, even though you can barely remember to breathe. Her body is lean and warm and her hair tickles you as she moves against you. The only sounds she makes now are from breathing a little harder, and you know she's in pain but she wants this as badly as you do. You're wrapped around her, holding on for _dear life_, even though you wish this would kill you.

You wish, with her final thrusts, that your climax would take your soul away so that you never have to live another moment not feeling as whole, as complete as you do tonight in her arms.

You look into her black eyes as you come undone, and when she tells you she loves you for the first time, you already know. She's showering you in the abundance and magnitude of those four letters.

This is your white Christmas.

* * *

You don't say anything for a while until she does. Basking in the afterglow. Dreading the darkness still to come.

"I could live like this," she says, holding you close. "I can barely move as it is."

You adjust yourself so you're not leaning against her bruised side so much. She must be in so much pain, but knowing Jane, she would never admit it. She won't let you go, even to get a bag of ice for her. You sigh and snuggle deeper, cherishing this moment.

"I could _die_ like this."

"Don't say that," she whispers sadly, kissing your head.

You sigh and burrow deeper into the curve of her neck. "But I mean it."

"I know."

She always knows.

"Oh shoot. Almost forgot." She slowly moves out from under you and reaches for her pants, pulling something out. She asks you to close your eyes again, and you only hesitate for a moment this time.

You feel the heat of her skin and the texture of her nipples against your back before you jolt at the sudden cold metallic sensation on your chest.

"Oh!"

She breathes out a chuckle and quietly apologizes before scooping your hair out from under the chain. You don't have to open your eyes to know it's a necklace and yet when you do, you still can't help but gasp.

"Jane… It's beautiful."

"You like it?"

"Like it? I adore it."

"I swung by Murphy's gift shop and saw the two butterflies. It reminded me of you… us…"

You turn to give her a chaste kiss and then turn it over to read the hand-made engraving.

_MJ_

It's simple, just two letters side-by-side, yet it's worth a thousand words and all the emotions that go with them. This time _she_ kisses you then lies back and you follow her, resting your head back where it belongs.

A moment later, a heavy sigh escapes her.

"I can't stay here, Maura."

"I know."

After that, you're sure her next words are to be some form of a good-bye, but you don't want to hear that right now. You focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, the rhythmic lub-dub of her heart, the goosebumps on her skin…

"Run away with me."

You stop your movements on her stomach and look up at her. You hope she's not joking because your heart's on your sleeve- No, it's in her hands when you say, "Honestly?"

She doesn't even hesitate to answer back. "Honestly."

"Give me five minutes to pack."

"Yeah? You'll come with me?"

You sit up and hold the sheet against your chest. "Jane, I'd follow you anywhere."

She sits up too, but lets the sheet slide right down. "I mean… I don't have it all planned out or nothin'. I've just been savin' up a bit to get a place in another Town while I look for work..."

"I have some money saved up too and I could also get a job. I'll even get two, as long as I'm with you. We can stay in a cave for all I care. Please, Jane. Don't leave me."

She looks at you like you're crazy. She doesn't ask you where you got the money from or how you plan on getting anyone with eyes to hire you. Instead she asks and answers her own question.

"How could I, Maur? I love you so much."

"I love you." You hug her. "So much."

You both tell each other you love each other for the first time… and the sky falls down.

* * *

**A/N**: END Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

She knows before you even say a word, and you miss her already.

* * *

… J …

* * *

You pack your life into a single duffel bag, thinking it's sad how little you're worth by most standards. You're not worth much money in possessions including your old truck, you're not worth the love of your own parent, or the respect of your peers.

Eighteen years. And all you've got to show for it is a duffel bag and a limp.

And _her_.

Whenever you talked about running away, it always went without saying that you'd have to leave everyone behind you. And that was okay back when it was still a pipedream, and it truly was up until a few minutes ago, but now… Now the thought of being away from her makes you sick to your stomach. Worse than the pain of broken bones.

But it ain't safe no more. It's time to go. It's either you leave tonight, or live and die this way.

But you have to see her first. You have to say good-bye.

She's never let you photograph her, so all you have is an old candid photo of the two of you holding hands when you were kids. That, and a truckload of memories.

You need just one more. One more memory and you can go.

You have to see her. Kiss her one more time. Then good-bye.

But those two words are two too many and once you're standing right in front of her, it's all just too much. Your resolve is dust. It drives you to tears.

Words are slippery little bastards and if you don't handle them right, they get away from you. It's like your thoughts are in English but a foreign language comes outta your piehole. You know what you want to say. You just don't know how.

That's why you prefer actions. Those, you can control.

"Close your eyes," you ask her.

She slowly shakes her head and says, "No. I don't wanna miss a thing."

You smile and reassure her she won't miss anything important. She closes her eyes…

And that is the beginning of the best night of your life.

She is so incredible and she smells like wild flowers in the rain after a hot day and you can't get enough of her. You can't believe what's happening. You're making love to your best-friend.

The sum of all these sights, sounds and smells are driving you sane. Yeah, this is where you're meant to be. With her.

You aren't dumb or anything. Intellectually you know that nobody's perfect. You learnt that the easy way by being born here. But the way you feel about her is anything but intellectual. The way you feel about Maura is exactly that; a feeling. A touch, a taste, a scent. When you look at her, it's an assault on all senses at once.

An assault so thorough and overwhelming that the words to express it just overflow without you even having to try so hard any more.

"Oh God, I love you," you choke out after she shouts your name, and you can't imagine ever letting her go.

Ever.

* * *

… M …

* * *

"Run away with me."

You stop your movements on her stomach and look up at her. You hope she's not joking because your heart's on your sleeve. No, it's in her hands when you say, "Honestly?"

She doesn't even hesitate to answer back, "Honestly."

"Gimme five minutes to pack."

"Yeah? You'll come with me?"

You sit up and hold the sheet against your chest. "I'd follow you anywhere."

She sits up too, but lets the sheet slide right down. "I mean… I don't have it all planned out or nothin'. I've just been savin' up a bit to get a place in another Town while I look for work."

"I have some money saved up too and I could also get a job. I'll even get two, as long as I'm with you. We can stay in a cave for all I care. Please, Jane. Don't leave me."

She looks at you like you're crazy. Though she doesn't ask you where you got the money from or how you plan on getting anyone with eyes to hire you. Instead she asks and answers her own question.

"How could I, Maur? I love you so much."

"I love you." You hug her. "So much."

You both tell each other you love each other for the first time… and the sky falls down.

"You lyin' lil' whore! I **knew** I'd find you two here."

You both turn toward the slurred voice from the doorway and you panic.

"Mom!"

"You better get yer daughter outta here now, Frank! Or I'll shoot 'er myself."

She panics too when he walks in after your mother. "Pop! Whataya doin' here?"

They must have met up at the bar again. Their affair was never a secret, but now isn't the time to point that out when you and your best-friend have just been caught butt-naked in your bedroom by both your parents.

Your breathing becomes more erratic as you panic even more.

"Don't Pop me! I won't have a filthy dyke goin' round spoiling the Rizzoli name. I thought you woulda learnt your lesson earlier, but tonight, I'ma finish what I started."

She places herself in front of you but he uses that to pull her by her hair and throws her on the floor with a crash.

"No! Jane!"

All you can do is scream helplessly. You hear and almost feel it when he punches her in the ribs he's broken time and time again.

You scream for him to stop but your mother holds you back, pulling at your hair. You fall backwards and land on the floor just as her father knocks her back down after trying to get up. You fight your mother off to crawl in Jane's direction, screaming and begging her to fight back as he kicks her over and over until he's grunting and sweating with the effort.

You can't help the tears but you try not to blink so you can see if she's still breathing.

"Jane!"

He stops to take a breath and you immediately cover her with your body. You don't care that you're exposed because the love of your life is bleeding her life out onto your carpet. You gently cradle her head while you warn him to stop or he'll kill her… and then you're staring down the barrel of his gun.

"I put her into this world. And I'll take her out. Now move, sinner."

He cocks his gun trying to scare you and you hear your mother gasp.

"Ease up on the trigger there, Frank. Just take your kid and go!"

"I know what I'm doin'!"

You look into his wild, blood-shot eyes that are nothing like Jane's in this moment, but you're not afraid. If he wants to kill her, he may as well kill you first, because there's no way you're going to move aside and watch the love of your life just die.

You can't live without her, so she won't die alone.

And that's when you smell smoke.

He must have knocked the lamp over when he threw her.

You gulp. No, not fire. Not again.

You flashback to your five-year old self being engulfed by flames after your mother carelessly flicks a cigarette in the kitchen after letting the gas stove run. A memory you've had to live with for the rest of your life since it happened, and now it's happening again.

"Frank! Look what you've done! Get outta my damn house! Now!"

You hear them argue and scramble to leave, but you're not going anywhere without her.

"Maura! Don't just sit there! Help me put this out!"

You ignore the screams, but when the girl in your arms lightly coughs it's as loud as the beat of your own heart in your ears. You wish you were as strong as her so you could carry her outside, but you aren't. You can barely cradle her because moving her would only hurt her more.

She's bleeding from her temple, nose and mouth and the bruises from earlier have gone almost completely purple. You can't leave her. You can't even try.

She tries to speak but she can only manage to keep her eyes open a few seconds at a time.

"Jane, please."

You sob and cough, begging her to live. Begging her to take you with her. Begging her to hang on. Begging her to drag you down with her.

The flames spread far too quickly in the small space and before you know it, you're both alone in a burning house.

Her eyes are rolling back into her head and you hear yourself scream for help.

None arrives.

"I'm sorry," she mouths and you shake your head.

"Shh… It's okay. I love you."

You feel dizzy and know you've inhaled so much smoke. You're coughing and sweating and the heat stings but you focus on her while she focuses on you.

She reaches out to touch your butterfly necklace and you kiss her one last time.

Her last breath.

Is to say she loves you more. And your heart dies with her.

Her eyes stay open, but you know her soul is waiting for you on the other side.

You hold her till the end.

You don't blink.

Because you know when you do close your eyes, it's for the last time.

"_I'd follow you anywhere."_

* * *

_Darling, please fly slowly,_

_Be careful of the thorny roses ahead._

_Darling, please open your mouth a bit,_

_The fragrance in the wind will intoxicate you._

_Darling, please follow me,_

_Through the jungle to see the small creek._

_Darling, come dance with me._

_There's no darkness in the spring of love._

_We fly together closely,_

_Fly together for a lifetime._

_I never regret loving you._

_Worthy of my tenderness and your beauty_

_We fly together intimately,_

_Fly together for a lifetime,_

_Until the leaves pile up in the autumn wind._

_I wither away with you without regret_

**Two Butterflies _ Liang Zhi Hu Die**

* * *

**A/N**: END Chapter 4.


End file.
